


Exchange

by NothingAlarming



Category: Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Anal Fingering, F/M, Oral Sex, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-30
Updated: 2015-04-30
Packaged: 2018-03-26 10:13:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3847075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NothingAlarming/pseuds/NothingAlarming
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The courier wants the Burned Man's prized .45. They work it out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Exchange

When she met Joshua he was inspecting a cache of .45s with much practice laden in the ease of his movements. She wonders about the way his flesh looks now, wonders if the burns are third degree or forth. She almost doesn’t catch him when he gives his condolences for the dead left in the mouth of Zion. Happy Trails.

“I didn’t know them.” He nods, blue eyes piercing the array of weapons before him with detached calculation. She wonders if had a wife when he was a legate, but then she sees it— _A Light Shining in Darkness_ —engraved deeply into the aged metal of the barrel of the gun he now holds. She could laugh. It’s easy to forget that he is Mormon, that he has a god. Some wear a cross, she thinks, he has this instead.

She wants to barter it, but thinks better of the sentiment. Until the sunlight is gone from behind the immense red rocks of the canyon and she is knee-deep in mantis corpses, the decaying lodge looming behind her. She really wants it then and she has an idea of something to trade.

 

There is strain in his movements when he takes a shaky fistful of her hair, slipping knuckle deep inside her, and she knows it’s not because he’s in pain. Mormon or not, he was also a legate once, and something tells her he did indeed have a wife. He has not had this in so long. He wants to throw her on the ground and destroy her because there was much that the fire took from him. She almost wants him to, but that was not the deal.

The desk he has her bent over moves an inch when she thrashes. He has forgone anything his god would approve of, and it’s a deliberate shock, she knows, but she squirms when he pulls his fingers out of her sex and rams them elsewhere.

The light in Angel Cave is dim and flickering with orange torches hugging the walls. A gust slipped its way in and made the fire dance about wildly, the shadows of the Brahmin skulls staked on either side of the desk shifting and somewhere, they have voices.

She is making enough noise for both of them, squeaks and whimpers bouncing off of the walls, but it’s not enough. Finally, Joshua says something and she’s grateful.

“Turn around.” His voice echoes and she understands the gravity of his it. It commanded armies. It destroyed Boulder City. But it’s hard to remember that it has also uttered words of god when he presses his face between her legs. He groans, hands kneading her hip bones like he is molding soft metal. Gold.

It’s her turn to be the silent one.

He bites the folds of skin through the linen, and she tries not to cry out. She’s made enough noise. He bites harder and she screams.

Earlier she had kissed his neck, all soft and breathy like in the Golden Globes, and now she remembers how Red Lucy teased her creatures with a dripping bit of raw meat before letting it fall into their cage. Their teeth bared against the bars, snapping. She did the same thing to Joshua, the courier realizes. Taunted a hungry animal. He speaks again, against her flesh.

“Close your eyes.” There is no disobedience here, so she does. She aches for a peek with she hears cloth peel away from his skin. Third degree or forth? She squeezes them shut further, damning her curiosity.

All at once he feeds on her. She whimpers through the discomfort because he is nipping carelessly at her, and this was part of the deal.

She has to prop herself up with her hands, but the sweat in her palms is making it difficult. She has to grate into the old wood with her nails to keep steady. The courier doesn’t dare to move her arms, but her elbows quiver. Finally, he does something right and it starts to feel good.

Again, his fingers find that other place. She knows she isn’t going to last now.

For a moment, his blistered lips leave her and she realizes he’s watching her. He adds a finger, thrusts harder.

It stopped burning a long time ago, and in the heights of sensation it proves very difficult to keep her eyes shut, but there is no disobedience here. His mouth returns to her and it becomes easier not to look, she can figure what that might look like, though her curiosity is still as tangible as another person in the room.

She comes and lets her elbows finally give. They would hurt later, but he’s driving her mad because he hasn’t stopped yet. The courier writhes and moans until he pulls his fingers out. She feels the air swish across her sweaty skin when he rises up.

There was the rustle of bandages again.

She feels so good, warm and spent, her body vibrating with every labored breath. She feels loose where she shouldn’t but she doesn’t pay it any mind. It would almost seem as though she has taken rather than given, but he set the rules. The courier still has her eyes shut when cold metal touches her thigh. A Light Shining in Darkness. He clears his throat and speaks again with a commander’s voice.

“I trust to see you on the battlefield in the coming days?” She collects herself before nodding. Sitting up, she runs her fingers over the engraving on the gun. His talisman. She allows herself to smile a little.

“Unquestionably.”


End file.
